


one love, one house

by freefall



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: 5+1 Things, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, this is just basically 2.5k of Andrew being whipped tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12936852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freefall/pseuds/freefall
Summary: It’s the little things that make an apartment into a home, that make a sequence of moments into a life.Or, five times Andrew hates that damn couch, and one time he thinks it isn’t so bad.





	one love, one house

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cats-are-assholes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cats-are-assholes).



> Giftfic in the AFTG Exchange for [@cats-are-assholes](http://cats-are-assholes.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Title is from Sweater Weather by The Neighborhood.

Andrew opened their apartment door and then tossed his keys onto the table, one of the few items of furniture for their new apartment that they had managed to get so far.  This was the first apartment that they had officially owned together, after Andrew signed with Neil’s team, and neither of them really knew what to do with it.  They weren’t exactly the type of people who interior-decorated.

Neil’s running shoes were kicked onto the rug, so he had to be here somewhere, but it was awfully quiet.  It didn’t smell like anything burning, though, so at least the idiot hadn’t tried to cook.

Andrew continued on into the living room, and then stopped dead.  “What the fuck.”

Neil’s grinning face popped up from over the back of the hideous, monstrous _thing_ that was masquerading as a couch and currently sitting in Andrew’s living room.

“Welcome home!”

“Neil.  What the fuck is that?”

“Our new couch! Isn’t it great?  I found it on the side of the road during my run, and then a couple of our neighbors helped me bring it up.”

Andrew looked again at the “couch.”  It was a brown, green, and pink pattern that was vaguely pretending to be paisley but looked more like puke.  It was stained, ripped in several places, and sagging so that it closer resembled a misshapen swamp monster than a couch.  The only redeeming feature about it was the beaming idiot’s face.

For a long moment Andrew was silent, pinching his nose with his fingertips.  “Neil.  No.”

Neil tilted his head.  “Huh?”

Andrew just looked at him.

“What?  What’s wrong with it?  I’ve been looking at couches online and they’re like thousands of dollars.  This was free!”

“We’re both professional athletes; I think we can afford a couch.”

Neil pouted, just a little.  Andrew hated it when he did that.

“You don’t like it?” Neil asked.

Andrew sighed.  “If it has bed bugs,” he said flatly, “you’re sleeping on it.”

 

\---

 

“I told you not to eat that shrimp,” Andrew said, safely standing on the outside of the bathroom and looking in at Neil hanging over the toilet.

“It wasn’t that old,” Neil said, and then retched again.  Andrew wrinkled his nose at the smell.

“It was in there for over a week.  Sometimes it’s okay to throw stuff out.”

“Shrimp is expensive,” Neil whined.  “I thought I’d just mix it in with some rice and vegetables, and it’d be fine.”

“And now look where you are.”

Neil opened his mouth again, likely to give him sass, before he abruptly turned to the toilet and heaved again.

Andrew sighed, and then went to get some things from the kitchen.  When he came back, Neil had stopped retching for the moment and was lying in defeat, eyes closed and cheek smushed onto the toilet seat.  He looked pathetic.

Still standing on the outside of the bathroom, Andrew reached in and patted Neil on the back with the end of the broom.

Neil looked up and was silent for a long moment, eyes wide.  “Are you seriously 30 Rock-ing me right now?” Neil said incredulously.  “Oh my god, you’re such a jerk!”  He burst into laughter, and then winced.  “Ow, don’t make me laugh, it hurts.”

“You’re extra pathetic today,” Andrew informed him.  He put down the broom and then brought the ice water he had also grabbed from the kitchen in to Neil. “Drink.”  Neil cupped the glass in two shaking hands, and Andrew had to help him bring it up to his mouth.  Slowly he took a few sips, and then turned his face away.  Andrew set it back down on the counter and gave in, slowly rubbing Neil’s back in circles over the soft material of his t-shirt.

Neil groaned in relief.  “Feels nice,” he muttered, laying his cheek back down on the toilet seat.  There was a peaceful silence for a long moment before Neil said, “Andrew?”

“What?”

“I threw up on the couch.”

Andrew paused in his rubbing and let out a forceful breath.  “I hate you.”

Neil just whimpered in response.

 

\---

 

Andrew was following Neil up the stairs to their apartment, both laden down with grocery bags, when Neil abruptly stopped in front of him.  Andrew tensed and prepared to drop the bags so he could draw his knife, when Neil said, “Tammi? What are you doing in the hallway?”

_Who the fuck was Tammi?_

Andrew pushed forward and nudged Neil to the side so he could see through the doorway of the stairwell.  Their next-door neighbor, a dark-skinned woman a few years older than them, was sitting on the ground in front of her doorway, playing with her phone.  She looked up with an apologetic grimace.  “Hey Neil.  I locked myself out again.  I’m waiting for the landlord to get here.”

Andrew looked between the two of them.  When did Neil make friends with their neighbors?

The woman met Andrew’s eyes.  “Hi, you must be Andrew!  I’m Tamika, but call me Tammi.  Nice to finally meet you.”

Andrew raised one eyebrow, and didn’t respond.

“Hey, Tammi, let us just put our stuff down and one of us can let you in to your apartment,” Neil told her.  “Andrew, do you want to do the honors?”

“Thanks for volunteering me, babe,” Andrew said sardonically, but followed him inside.

Neil just smirked at him.  “C’mon, weren’t you just complaining the other day about your skills getting rusty?”

“I wasn’t aware that you had cause to complain about my skills,” Andrew said, voice flat, as he grabbed the lockpick set from the kitchen drawer.

Neil laughed.  Tammi, who had poked her head inside their door to follow the conversation, said, “How, exactly, are you going to let me in to my apartment?”

Neil winked at her.  “We’re very talented people.”  Andrew rolled his eyes.  Honestly, and the flirty idiot wondered why so many people hit on him.

“Move,” he told Tammi, heading to the door with the picks.

She was about to get out of the way before she paused and looked into their living room, mouth gaping.  “Woah, is that couch what I think it is?”

“What?” Neil asked.

“You know, is that Druggy Joe’s couch?  His buddies left it outside after he got arrested for selling cocaine and got evicted.  I’d recognize that paisley pattern anywhere.  Man, I never thought anyone would actually take it!”  She laughed.

Andrew slowly turned to look at Neil.

He was already looking back at Andrew with his best innocent expression pasted on.  He shrugged and gestured widely with both hands.  “It’s a perfectly nice couch!”

“312 percent,” Andrew said flatly, and then went to go get that damn door unlocked.

Tammi watched as Andrew worked at the lock.  “Should I be worried about this?” she asked.

“Probably.  Your lock is terrible.  You should upgrade it like we did, and get a few more deadbolts.”

“Ah,” she said.  “Not what I meant, but that is also worrying, thank you.”

Andrew ignored her.  With a few quick movements, the lock clicked and he pushed the door open.  “There.  Don’t clutter up the floor,” he told her. 

She just laughed.  “Thank you!  Thank you also, Neil!”

“No problem,” Neil waved and smiled from where he was braced in their doorway.  “Have a good evening!”

“You too!  And, may I add, your boy’s skills definitely aren’t rusty.” She waggled her eyebrows.

Neil burst into laughter as Andrew stared at her in bemusement.  He seemed to be losing his touch.  This kind of shit never happened to him in college. 

 

\---

 

Andrew looked up from the TV at the sound of Neil’s keys in the door, and turned to see him over the back of the couch.  Neil came in, sweaty and smiling, and tossed his keys into the onto the table.  His hair was long enough now that Neil could pull it in a little ponytail at the base of his neck.  There was a sweat stain on the neck of his shirt, and he was wearing those fucking tiny running shorts that Andrew hated so much. 

Neil looked up and smiled at him.  “Hey.  Good show?”

Andrew looked back at the TV.  He had completely forgotten what he was watching.  Some baking thing, apparently.  With a click of the remote, Andrew turned it off.  “Not particularly.”

Neil’s smile turned slow like honey.  “Oh, really?” He wandered over to the couch slowly.  He paused at the arm of the couch before ostentatiously pulling one of his feet back to stretch his quad, leaning down onto the end of the couch to balance.

Neil said something that Andrew didn’t hear.  “Andrew?”  Andrew wrenched his gaze up from Neil’s legs.  Neil was smirking fully, now.  “Are you doing anything interesting today?” Neil repeated.

“Not yet.”

Neil laughed and came over to straddle Andrew on the couch, carefully keeping his weight off of Andrew’s lap.  Neil put both of his hands around Andrew’s neck, playing with the hair at the base of his scalp.  “Yes or no?” Neil murmured, an inch away from Andrew’s mouth. 

“Yes,” Andrew answered, and leaned forward and kissed Neil.

Whenever Andrew kissed Neil, it felt just as intense as the first time, heart hitching in his chest like he was looking over the edge of a roof.  You’d think he’d have gotten over the fear of falling by now, he does it so often.

Neil opened his mouth and let Andrew lick inside, letting his full weight rest against Andrew’s chest and lap, but carefully keeping his hands in Andrew’s hair.  They were familiar enough with each other’s boundaries these days that they rarely had to ask.

Andrew kissed Neil until Neil was letting out little moans with each breath and shifting back and forth on Andrew’s lap like he couldn’t help it.  Andrew gripped Neil by the waist and turned, dumping him on the couch beneath him.  “Okay?” he asked.  Neil grinned up at him, bright-eyed and shining.  “Yeah,” Neil answered, and stretched up to kiss him again.

Andrew let his weight settle on Neil entirely, and slowly, lazily, ground his hips down into Neil’s.  Neil’s gasp was drowned out by a loud screech.  They both froze, breaking apart to look at each other.  Experimentally, Andrew shifted his weight again.  Again, the couch’s springs made a loud screeching noise, not unlike the noise tires made as a car peeled out of a lot.

Andrew looked at Neil, dead-eyed.

Neil, because he was Neil, burst into delighted laughter.  Andrew couldn’t even enjoy the shaking of Neil’s body against his, because every time Neil moved the couch’s springs squeaked, which just ratcheted Neil’s hilarity up higher and higher.  Andrew sat up with a sigh. Neil was red-faced and tears were leaking out of his eyes, he was laughing so hard.

“We’re burning this couch,” Andrew told him.

 “Never.  I love this couch and we are never getting rid of it.”

Andrew sighed.

 

\---

 

“Are you looking up highlights again, junkie?” Andrew called out, and then banged his head back onto the back of the couch in exasperation.

There was a guilty noise from the bathroom.  “Sorry, Kevin sent me a link—okay, okay, I’m getting ready.”  There was a splash as the sink turned on.

Andrew rolled his head to the left, and then froze.  Somehow, without him hearing, one of the cats had climbed onto the back of the couch and was staring at him intently with an unblinking gaze.  Andrew narrowed his eyes.  The cat stared back.

“Your cat’s staring at me again.”

“Really?” The water turned off and Neil bounded out into the living room.  “Awww, she loves you!”  Andrew gave him a skeptical look.  At least Neil looked ready to go.  He was dressed in the all-black, tight, clingy clothes Andrew got him for going out.  Good.  Andrew had been ready to go for fifteen minutes already.  Andrew pushed himself off the couch and went to grab his keys.

“Did you see the group message?”  Neil continued.

“Did you really have to tell those idiots that you decided to take in two flea-bitten animals?”

“Well, I needed advice for the names, you know?  I think they voted on it, and ended up going with Nicky’s suggestions.”

“You didn’t.”

Neil’s grin was unholy.  “I think you’re really going to like the names.”

Andrew groaned.  “How bad are they?”

“Sir Fat Cat McCatterson and King Fluffkins.”

Andrew was silent for a long, horrified moment.  “Fuck you.”

Neil hummed.  “Maybe later.  Oh, by the way,” he gestured at Andrew.  “You’ve got a little something.”

Andrew twisted around to see that the back of his black clothes were completely covered in white fur.  He turned back to Neil and leveled him with his best glare.  “We’re getting rid of them,” Andrew informed him.

“Mmm, sure, babe.”

“And the couch.”

“We’ll see.”

 

\---

 

It was a bad day.  Andrew sat on the couch, petting King and looking out the window as the weak winter sun rose and fell across the sky, changing patterns of the shadows on the wall.  Depression wasn’t like people thought it was.  Andrew wasn’t sad, he just felt.  Nothing, really.  Tired.  When Neil came in the door from a day of extra practice and media obligations, he didn’t turn around.

From the pause before the clink of Neil setting his keys on the table, Andrew knew that Neil knew something was wrong.  “Andrew?” he asked hesitantly.

Andrew didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

Neil seemed to get it, because he didn’t ask again.  “I’m going to tell Nicky we can’t skype tonight, okay?”  Neil was doing something in the kitchen now; something that involved opening and shutting cupboards and running the microwave.  He was probably hungry.  Andrew felt the pathetic urge to ask Neil to come around the couch so he could see his face.  He ruthlessly pushed it down.

Neil darted into the bedroom for something, then came back out.  “Andrew?” he asked, approaching where Andrew and King sat.  “I’m going to put a blanket around your shoulders, okay?”

Andrew barely nodded, and then felt the drape of the softest, fuzziest blanket they owned around his shoulders a moment later.  Neil grabbed the remote and turned it on, flipping the channels until he landed on Gordon Ramsey.  “Is it okay if we watch this?”

Andrew wasn’t really in the mood to watch TV, but if Neil wanted to, that was fine.  “Fine.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”  Neil went to the kitchen and came back with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate.  He gave one to Andrew and put one on the coffee table by their feet, snuggling in to the blanket next to Andrew, but carefully not touching him. 

On screen, Ramsey was calling someone a “fucking disgrace,” and Neil laughed.  Despite himself, Andrew felt his attention get pulled to the screen.  That really was a hideous-looking omelet.

“Neil,” Andrew said in frustration. 

“Hmm?”

“Get over here.”

Neil tried and failed to hide a little smile, and slid over on the couch until his side was resting against Andrew’s.  He slowly tilted to the side and, when Andrew didn’t stop him, rested his head on Andrew’s shoulder. 

Neil’s breaths were slow and even against him.  King’s fur was soft, and so was the blanket.  The hot chocolate smelled good, and for the first time that day he was beginning to feel hungry.  And Andrew would never admit it aloud, but the couch really was comfortable.

Outside, snow began to fall.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it, Val!
> 
> Thanks for reading, everybody. My tumblr is [here](http://dexinasnapback.tumblr.com) if anyone wants to chat.


End file.
